Birth Stories for Joanna.

Joanna, my sister-in-law, was asking about people's birth stories (she's a few weeks out from having Margot :) so I thought instead of replying on the comments portion of her blog, I'd write out my three birth stories here since they are among the top five most important moments in my life.


Chapter One, Oliver.


Oliver. A child of surprises. Conceived by surprise, and born at a very inopportune time (for me, he was perfectly prompt by God's timing.) 
Phil and I had gotten home from a New Year's Eve party at about 12:30. That's right, we party hard ;) and went straight to bed, with me falling asleep around 1 a.m. 
2:30 a.m. I wake up with bad cramps. I am in slight pain, but try to do the breathing exercises to ease them. Phil wakes up to the sounds of my breathing, and asks if everything is okay. I tell him I'm sure it's false labour, Braxton Hicks, or something, and to go back to sleep. I don't go back to sleep due to discomfort.
7 a.m. Still have the weird cramps going on, Phil goes to work for his dad, and tells me to call if anything happens. I've read and reread all my pregnancy/labour books, and am SURE that this isn't real labour. I don't have most of the signs, and the pain isn't concentrated on my back like the books say it should be.
8 a.m. My mom is worried about me. She doesn't question me (since she knows pregnant women are not to be triffled with) but suggests I call my friend, Kate, who was studying to be a midwife. I do. Kate was one of three hosting the party last night and doesn't sound terribly awake when I call her. I tell her not to worry and just to come by when she has time.
10:30 (ish) a.m. Kate shows up with Amy. They think for sure I'm in labour. I show them the books. But the pains are getting worse and closer together, so I'm inclined to go get checked out at the hospital just in case.
Meanwhile, we walk around, I try to eat protein-rich snacks since I'm still going on practically no sleep and am expecting to still have a lot of pushing, etc... ahead of me.
Phil comes home at some point, I don't remember the time. Contractions, I admittedly call them that at this point, are getting worse, so it's time to pack the hospital bag.
4 p.m. or somewhere around there, Joel has to leave to go to the airport. I don't remember how he got there, since my mom and Dennis were staying home, but anyways, he misses his nephew's birth by a couple of hours. 
6 p.m. We've waited around the house waiting it out since there is more privacy than a hospital, and I'm bound to be more comfortable. We watched Step It Up (right?) to take my mind of the contractions, but it's time to start heading out. Dennis prays with all of us before we walk out the door, saying, "Bless this mess." If you know Dennis, this is normal and funny, and would wind up being very appropriate.
There's a really nice snowstorm going on. Amy is driving my Nissan Altima (I sort of miss that car!) Phil is riding up front, and Kate and I are in the back working on my breathing. I remember it being a very slow ride to the hospital, which luckily isn't very far away, and Amy being terrified of killing us on the way out.
7 p.m. (ish?) My memory from here on is a little fuzzier, but we get in and checked-in to the hospital without incident, and am brought up to the maternity ward. Doc comes in in a fishing vest and a t-shirt with a trout on it if I recall correctly. He says I'm fully effaced, and about ready to start pushing, but once they get the baby heart monitor on, they realize something is wrong. Every time I get a contraction, the baby's heart rate goes from 140 down to 40. Terrifying, if you've ever heard it. They do an ultrasound to see what is wrong, and we find out that the cord is wrapped around his neck and that he is breach. When I get a contraction, it pushes him further down, further choking him.
Doctor suggests an immediate emergency C-section. Amy's grandpa, who married Phil and I, stops by right as I'm signing the waiver for the C-section and prays for us. (By the way, my heart is racing as I'm writing/recalling all this. It was not pleasant.)
7:30 p.m. ish. I've been awake for a very long time, been having contractions for a very long time, and just want to meet my baby. I'm wheeled into the operating room. It's very different than I pictured it. Scary. I'm hyper-ventilating, and making it so that I'm making it worse for the baby and the overall situation. The nurses keep trying to get me to calm down (the same ones that highly annoyed Amy by calling the baby "Baby Doll") but I can't calm myself. They have to put me completely under so I can breathe normally and stop shaking. On the plus side, I discover this wonderful thing called the Bear Hug Blanket. It's amazing. One of the last things I remember is being able to see a very unflattering view of myself in one of the mirrors in the room before passing out.
9 or 9:30 p.m. I wake up in the recovery section to the voices of a nurse and a male talking about how beautiful my baby boy was. I find out I had a boy. (Unconclusive before then since Oliver was a fan of crossing his legs for ultrasounds) I'm kind of mad I heard it from them in passing instead of having been able to be awake and have Phil declare the sex of the baby as per our birthing plan, but happy that my baby is alive. I realize it's a very strange sensation to not be able to feel anything from about my chest down. The nurse tells me I can go see my baby after I'm able to wiggle my toes. Never have I put so much effort into trying to do such a simple thing.
9:30 p.m. ish. I am allowed to go back to the maternity ward and am being rolled there on a gurney. I see a lot of people in the hall and remember waving to someone awkwardly. I am handed Oliver. He is the most precious thing I've ever seen. Perfection. Nurses come in and out just to get a look at him over the next couple of days. I try to get and walk WAY too soon and vomit. Rally and take it easier the next few hours. I have the cutest baby, and he's healthy despite all the dramatics, everything is going to be okay.




Chapter Two, Oakley.


Oliver is such a wonderful baby, seriously! that we decide to start trying again for another one. Not thinking we'd get pregnant on the first try (we still live with my parents!) Oliver is about 4 months old. My OB/GYN informs me that our hospital has a policy against VBACs (Vaginal Births After Cesarian) for some reason, so I'll need another C-section for this one. It's weird having a day circled on the calendar saying when I'll have my baby, but kind of nice. I keep thinking he'll try to come early and be dramatic like Oliver, but February 22nd rolls around without much incident. We did go to the hospital once when I thought I was in labour, but it wasn't anything.
I'm absolutely terrified of another C-section. I want to be awake for this one so I can actually see my baby when he is born, not hours later. Plus, it's just mean to tell a pregnant woman she can't eat for twelve hours before surgery. Just mean! My C-section is scheduled for noon. We get to the hospital with plenty of time to spare, and I'm still very much uneased. I try to joke about it, but I just want to go home and skip this part. I worry about how much it will hurt even with anesthesia. 
Again, as I'm being rolled to the O.R., I'm violently shaking and am re-introduced to the Bear Hug Blanket. I need one of these in my home. The warmth of the blanket helps calm me down, but that stupid mirror is still in the same spot so all I can see over the blanket that shields the view of the cutting spot, is again, the very unflattering view of my vagina. Awesome. Look at something else. Not sure why that's even necessary since that's not where the baby's coming out of, but I digress. 
I am finally calmed down some, the doctor, his assistant, and the anesthesiologist are talking about motorcycles while performing surgery. Whatever. As long as my baby comes out fine. Oakley is born at 12:14. I'm amazed it only took 14 minutes to get him out. I can feel tugging and such as they're doing whatever else (getting all the placenta out, etc...) and while it might make some gag, I think it's kind of cool, and am excited at the prospect of spending less time in the recovery ward.
I have the best nurse ever during the nights at the hospital. I think her name was Denise. She was born in Guam. She's a big fan of Oakley, his name, his blankie, and I introduce her to Jack Johnson. I was sad that I didn't see her when I went it with Elliot. She was cool.


Chapter 3, Elliot.


Another surprise child! I cried when I found out I was pregnant. Not happy tears. I wasn't ready for this! How will we afford another kid? God has his own timing, and I wouldn't trade Elliot for anything.
Another planned C-section, though this time, a different doctor. I "fired" my last OB/GYN after he made a rude and inappropriate comment at a post-baby check-up. My new doctor is very, very nice and has a bedside manner. Shocking! And by bedside manner, I don't mean lewd comments. C-section is scheduled for February 8th. Again, I keep expecting that the baby will come early. I'm also slightly, okay more than slightly, disappointed that it's not a girl. It's something I was so sure of. I'd always assumed God would give me a girl and we'd have that special bond, but again, I wouldn't trade Elliot for anything.
The couple of weeks leading up to the C-section, I keep thinking about how nervous and shaky I got with the previous ones, and Phil and I pray for peace about it. 
We get to the hospital at 6:45 a.m., and they had an emergency C-section so I'm bumped back a slot. This is fine. I am miraculously calm and totally at peace. I manage to sneak a nap in. God is awesome! They come in to draw blood and put in the i.v., etc.... I am slightly squeamish at needles, and it takes two nurses five tries to get the iv in. Yuck. Amy, who is always with me when I'm at the hospital about to birth cute babies for her to hold, looks like she's going to vomit. I have a picture to prove it. I just tried to spell prove "proove." My mom is there too. And of course, Phil. I have an awesome support group. I am totally calm when being rolled into O.R. this time around. I was here less than a two years ago. And again the year before. This blows my mind a little. I avoid the mirror this go around. I know right where it is. The doctor does not talk about motorcycles while cutting into me, which is more comforting. Bear Hug and I greet like old friends. The anesthesiologist offers to take pictures of Phil and I. This is the first time we find out we've been allowed to bring in our camera. Grr. I would've like to get pictures of my other kids too. Oh well, that's past. I get to actually hold Elliot after he is born while they close me up. This has been a wonderfully different experience for me. Phil takes some sweet, kind of gory pictures of my surgery, and the anesthesiologist takes pictures of Phil, Elliot and I. We're a happy family.
Recovery goes well too. Phil's mom is wonderful enough to fly up from California to take care of Oliver and Oakley while Phil juggles work and visiting me at the hospital. At the end of day two, I take a long walk through the halls of the maternity ward (nurses kind of yell at me), and am dressing myself, showered, and feeling ready to go home. I am super woman.